Wait For Her
by Kibz
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been in love with Hermione for a while, but she doesn't know. That's okay. Draco knows she'll figure it out eventually.
1. Draco's POV

**Disclaimer: All that stuff down there belongs to J.K. Rowling...**

I don't know when I fell in love with Hermione Granger. I'm fairly sure it wasn't when I first saw her. She didn't make much of an impression on me then; she was a big head of bushy hair with a tiny body accompanying it. So it wasn't love at first sight. I didn't fall in love with her in class, because she pretty much annoyed the hell out of me then, with her hand always waving around wildly like she would _die _if she didn't get to share her _vast _amount of knowledge with the rest of the class. It wasn't that time in third year when she punched me in the face. That bloody _hurt_, and I had to go around for the next week or so with a huge, discoloured bruise on my face and it sure as hell didn't help that I got beaten up by a girl. The Slytherins taunted me with that for _years. _And I _know _that I didn't just wake up one day and go, oh, I'm in love with Granger from Gryffindor and I don't care that she's a muggleborn and she's best friends with Potty and Weasel and my father will kill me if he finds out. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that she kind of grew on me, until I couldn't help but love her.

Suddenly I found her upturned nose cute instead of snobby, and her bushy hair unique instead of hilariously unattractive and her small frame made me want to protect her instead of trying to make her cry.

I was impressed with how intelligent she was and I found myself trying to keep my composure when Snape would snarl at her, take points of from her house and leave her disheartened and upset. Stupid Snape, he really makes a terrible head of house. I'd rather confide in my father than him, and that's saying something, because if he knew half the things I thought I'd be dead before I could say "I love Granger,". Unless he took the time to _crucio_ me first, of course. Anyway, instead of getting irritated when she raised her hand in class, I would wonder how she knew so bloody _much_, and just how much she knew about _me_.

Whenever I would taunt Weasley and that stupid Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-My-Life-Hell, she would step in and defend them and then I'd have to do the same for her, but then I'd admire her spunk, the way she never backed down from a challenge and rarely showed just how much my comments hurt her. I hope they didn't hurt her much, but I can't imagine she'd be able to ignore them completely. She'd probably wait till she was alone, then break down each insult and systematically go about proving them wrong as well as coming up with something to say to me when I used them again. I can never say the same thing twice, because she can always prove me wrong and she did, for a while, before I realized it. Now I can only make the same comment once.

I always tried to hide my love. I'm still doing it, even right now as I'm pouring out my thoughts. I'm sitting at the Slytherin table, facing her, and I'm pretending like I'm staring off into space even though I'm completely focused on her. She's talking to Weasley and Potter and I wish they would just go away, so that _I _could be the one who she smiles at. She's always looked at me with such hatred, and it kills me, becase I wish that I could make her laugh, instead, even if it was just _once._

Her laugh is a beautiful thing, you know. It's not simpering, like Parkinson's. It's obvious that Pansy's practised her laugh, to try and make it as feminine as possible. It's not even a laugh, really. It's a giggle. I don't think I've ever heard Pansy chuckle, or guffaw, or anything other than a high pitched, fake-sounding giggle. It's not like Millicent's either. I wouldn't be suprised if Bulstrode turned out to be a bloody poofter dressed as a girl, although I'd be rather disgusted. I'd had to take her as a date to a Christmas ball once with Pansy was suffering from a mild case of acne and refused to show her face, while Daphne Greengrass agreed to go with Zabini, the bloody idiot.

But Hermione - her laugh is wonderful. It's rich and free and she just throws her head back in reckless abandon and she makes me wish I could laugh with her. I can't, of course, because my father had to go and make sure I got sorted into _Slytherin_, of all houses. And she just had to go and become a sodding _Gryffindor_, so of course she hates me now. I suppose she has a reason to; after all, I have insulted her for the past six years or so. Still, you'd think that with all that overflowing intelligence she'd have figured out that I didn't mean it like I used to.

She'll figure it out eventually, though. I've seen her give me suspicious looks sometimes. Eventually Hermione will get curious enough, and then she'll barricade herself in the library and bury herself in books until she figures it out. I don't know if there are any books that documents the way a guy acts when they love you and try to hide it, but if there is one, I'd be willing to bet a hell of a lot that Hermione will find it.

Even if there isn't one, she has Brown and Patil, doesn't she? Those stupid Gryffindor girls who can't think much beyond the actions of the various guys in their year. Yeah, once she asks them, they'll tell her for sure. I hope it doesn't take too long for her to go to them; it's hard, having her so oblivious to my feelings.

I can wait, though. As long as it takes, I'll wait for her.

**AN: Um. I was bored in English class, and we were doing some creative writing thing, so I wrote this. Uhhh...it's unedited, so...don't be too harsh?**


	2. Hermione's POV

**Disclaimer: Nothing's changed from the previous chapter...I still don't own anything.**

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**Hermione's POV:**

Something weird is going on with Malfoy. It's difficult to explain, because mostly I've been noticing little things that, if taken on their own, wouldn't mean much at all. However, I'm absolutely certain that he's not acting normally, even though I have to admit that he is doing an fairly exemplary job of hiding it, as nobody else seems to have noticed. Still, something about him as changed.

For example, two days ago we had Double Potions and Professor Snape took ten points away from Gryffindor due to my habit of acting like an "insufferable know-it-all," as he so kindly put it. As much as I respect the man, I do wish that he would at least _attempt _to be a bit more diplomatic. I digress. Anyone would agree with me that a loss for Gryffindor would subsequently result in a snide remark from Malfoy. However, after this particular occurance, it surprised me to observe that it did not seem to warrant even a smirk from the blond Slytherin.

After that, I started to wonder what else was different about him. Once I began to pay closer attention to Malfoy, I noticed that quite a few things seemed to be off about him.

He has stopped insulting me. Well, not entirely. If I defend Harry or Ron, he retaliates, of course, but I no longer seem to be one of his main targets. I hear "mudblood" much less frequently now.

Also, just yesterday Ron was telling Harry and I a joke (It was marvelously funny, by the way; I believe that Fred and George came up with it first. It was right down their alley, as the joke centered around a toilet seat.) when I happened to glance over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was staring right at us. He wasn't glaring or sneering or anything of the sort. He was just staring. It was unnerving.

I am at a loss to explain his behavior. At first I thought that he had experienced a paradigm shift and changed his views towards muggleborns, thus making him feel guilty about how he had treated me previously, but no such luck. He still calls me a Mudblood, after all.

Harry and Ron wouldn't be able to assist me, so I'm all alone in this. I can only imagine what would happen if I told them. Ron would probably sputter violently before insisting that I stay away from "The Ferret", conveniently ignoring the fact that the only time I'm in close contact with him is during class or when one of the boys decides to start a fight. Harry is more likely to jump to conclusions involving conspiracies and You-Know-Who.

I do love my boys, but they really can be obtuse sometimes. Malfoy, if anything, seems to acting like _less_ of a twat now. It's doubtful that he's trying to harm me by acting more passive.

Ginny, despite being a fellow female and thus more sensitive to the subtleties of people, wouldn't be much help either. She'd likely spout some nonsense about Malfoy fancying me or something equally ridiculous and untrue.

Likewise for Parvati and Lavender. Those girls really can't think about much beyond romance and anything that relates to it, which rules out basically anything that requires intelligence.

Not even Neville can help me. He's absolutely terrified of Malfoy, the poor boy. I don't blame him, although I do think that he has nothing to worry about if it came down to a fistfight. Neville's got a couple of inches and a few pounds on the Slytherin, at the least. There I go, digressing again. The point is, I don't want to cause Neville undue stress by bringing up a topic involving Malfoy, let alone one that centers around him.

Maybe I should ask Professor Snape to teach me Legillimency. Then all I'd have to do would be to look in Malfoy's eyes, and I'd know the answer.

That does seem rather drastic, though. Not to mention there is no way I could get the Professor to agree, especially if I was unable to supply a reason, because Heaven knows that if I told him I wanted to learn Legillimency so that I could look into Draco Malfoy's mind he'd probably throw me out of his office physically. Not before taking hundreds of points from Gryffindor and giving me detention for the rest of my time at Hogwarts, of course.

I'm not certain why this is worrying me so much, but I do know that I have to figure it out. It will drive me crazy otherwise.

I give up. Just thinking about it certainly isn't solving the problem. I'm going to the library; perhaps I'll find an explanation there. Books have never failed me before.

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**AN: I bet you didn't expect another chapter, did you? To be honest, neither did I. It's been over six months since I wrote the first part, and I really don't like it much anymore, so I was just going to leave it alone and kind of ignore it. However, as I was reading it over I thought that I really had done Hermione a disservice by not writing her thoughts on the subject. After all, if she has the "brightest mind of her age", then she really should be allowed to express her opinion. Um. Even if it's technically mine since I'm writing it...Anyway. I apologise for the length (or lack there of), as well as the lack of romance. Hermione really is oblivious, isn't she? Forgive me enough to leave a review?**


	3. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: Annndddd I still don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does, though. Lucky girl. Er, woman.**

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**Epilogue:**

Despite Draco's complete and utter confidence in Hermione's abilities to discover the reason behind his slight change in nature towards him, she did no such thing.

For a while he was pleased to note that she was putting forward quite a large amount of time and effort into studying him and the motives behind his behavior. It was a wonderful feeling for him to be in her spotlight. Draco was hard-pressed to keep from smiling every time she looked over at him and scrunched up her nose in what he recognized as the expression she made whenever she was faced with an exceptionally difficult puzzle.

The only difference was that those puzzles were all solved eventually, and she never needed to go beyond the library to find the solution.

Ironically, Hermione would have the answers much sooner if she had a bit more faith in her fellow females and their skills of observation. Unfortunately she did not, and instead spent almost an entire year holed up in the library, studying psychology books, to no avail.

Harry and Ron never managed to figure out what she was doing. That wasn't for lack of trying, however. It should be noted that Weasleys in general have a very persistant nature, and Ron was no exception to the rule. On the other hand, the boy-who-lived was slightly less enthusiastic when it came to questioning his friend on her behavior. He can be forgiven, however, because he was quite preoccupied, as there was a formidable Dark Lord who was focusing most of his mind on scheming and plotting ways to kill Harry, thus neutralizing the largest threat to him and his plans for world domination.

Draco, although he is immensely ashamed of it and will probably never mention it out loud to anyone except for Hermione, was unable to keep the promise he made himself in regards to allowing Hermione the time and space to figure him out on her own. Waiting approximately 8 months, however, shows a commendable amount of patience, so it is unlikely anyone would fault him for it.

Nevertheless, one day he just couldn't wait any longer. There wasn't anything particularly special about that day. It was grey and drizzly, like the entire week before it had been, and his schedule was exactly the same as it had been since September. Draco didn't wake up feeling different, and there was no powerful electrical charge in the air. Even Draco himself doesn't know the precise reason behind his actions, but he does know that his hormones are likely to blame.

Whatever his reasoning had been, the facts remain the same.

Draco and Hermione passed by each other in a narrow corridor near the bottom of the Ravenclaw tower. It was completely deserted except for the two of them.

Hermione stared at him the whole time, her inquisitive nature overwhelming the inner voice that told her it was rude to stare, and she should be moving faster because if she didn't get her Charms essay started soon, she would have less than a week to complete it in.

Beyond simply being flattered, and basking in the slight attention he was recieving from her, Draco was actually slightly annoyed that she still remained oblivious. Not only that, but it was becoming harder and harder not to kiss her senseless every time he saw her looking at him.

On that particular day, he failed to remove his gaze from her own. Her soft doe eyes, which sparkled with intelligence, seemed to fill his vision and they were all he could see until she licked her lips nervously.

At that point, his eyes dropped, now watching as her slightly parted lips glistened with moisture, the tip of her tongue flicking over them.

Before he knew what he was doing, Draco had pushed her up against a wall, pressing his own lips to hers.

Shocked and utterly confused, Hermione dropped her textbooks but was unable to respond any more than that, frozen completely as she felt a foreign tongue tracing the outline of her mouth and the sharp corners of cold stones pressing uncomfortably into her back.

Disappointed in her lack of response and feeling rejected and heartbroken, Draco pulled back and turned away, intending to go back to his dorm room and wallow in despair.

At that point, however, Hermione regained her senses and found that she had actually enjoyed the kiss, although she hadn't been an active participant and she was fairly sure there was a rather large bruise on her left shoulder blade. Futhermore, she realized that her close inspection of Draco had, over the months, established a growing affection for the Slytherin within her.

Reaching out, she grabbed his sleeve, catching his attention. When he turned back to her, she placed her hands on his cheeks, then stood on tip-toe, tilted her head back, and kissed him.

Draco could not remember a time in his life when he had been happier.

As for Hermione? Well, she figured Harry and Ron would get over it eventually.

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**AN: Yes! It's done! Thank God. I hate this story. It was fun to write, but I keep looking back on it and going, "what was I THINKING??" Um, I hope you guys like it, though. I was seriously considering giving it an unhappy ending, with Hermione never figuring it out and Draco waiting for the rest of his life, but it didn't fit with the mood of the first two chapters, so a happy ending it was. Sorry if it didn't meet your expectations...I can't really say I tried my best, 'cause I wrote this chapter in half an hour or so and didn't edit it. Again. Whatever. I still hope you like it.**


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